


Confluence of Sound

by VladimirVladivostok



Series: Micronations ESC AU [1]
Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Music RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Eurovision, Eurovision Song Contest 2008, Gen, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, POV Second Person, Serbia - Freeform, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VladimirVladivostok/pseuds/VladimirVladivostok
Summary: You are Valery Borodin, the 2008 Eurovision representative of the micronation of Sealand. Not that you'd ever been to Sealand, they just invited you. And somehow, while sitting in the Eurovision green room, the contest is the last thing on your mind. Probably something to do with the people who had just stormed the contest. Yeah, that does tend to put a damper on things.
Series: Micronations ESC AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693630
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

"Valery Borodin?"  
You looked up. Your name had finally been called. It was finally your chance to go out onto the big stage. You had been waiting all night practically, you were one of the last acts to perform. Now was your time to shine at the grand final of the Eurovision Song Contest 2008.  
It was funny to think how this had all started. How a distant prince had called you one day as you sat in your London apartment and offered you a chance to go to Eurovision for a country you hadn't even really heard of before. If you could even call it a country. The Principality of Sealand. Despite not actually being an officially recognised nation, the EBU had granted Sealand permission to enter the 2008 contest, the first time ever that an unrecognised nation had been allowed to participate. As a micronation, Sealand didn't have many residents, and especially not many who were singers. You weren't from there, either, of course. You had been born in Russia, spending your childhood there until your family moved to the UK when you were 12 years old. The songs you made were typically in a mixture of both English and Russian, and Sealand seemed interested in this fact most of all (perhaps they wanted to secure some votes from Russia?)  
You waited by the entrance to the stage. The two hosts of the show, Željko Joksimović and Jovana Janković, were both still on stage, so you couldn't go out just yet. But what were they still doing there, you wondered. Shouldn't they be waiting in the green room while you performed your song like they had for all the other entries so far?  
"Ok, a special surprise tonight for those of you who didn't watch the semi finals," Željko said, "We have a new country in our Eurovision family."  
"Yes, that's right!" Jovana said, "It's time to welcome our newest member, the Principality of Sealand!"  
The audience clapped. Whether they were clapping for you or for Sealand, you weren't sure, although you were sure that the audience in Belgrade probably hadn't heard of either before tonight.  
"Well, you probably wouldn't find them on a map," Željko said, "They are very small, after all. One place you will find them though is right here on this Eurovision stage! Say a big hello to Sealand! And here he is- it's Valery Borodin with his song 'Light of My Life!"  
Željko and Jovana step off the stage. That's your cue to enter. You step on the stage and it hits you all at once. The semi-finals had been one thing, but this, this was something else. You look out across the stage. The audience in Belgrade are cheering for you. Before now, you had only dreaming of playing to an arena this big.  
The performance goes amazingly, better than even in your wildest dreams.  
"Thank you Europe!" it's a stereotypical thing to shout after a Eurovision performance but you do it anyway. The audience cheer louder than ever before as you walk off the stage. You did it.  
When you walk back into the greenroom, the other entrants clap for you. Although Elnur and Samir, the entrants of Azerbaijan, look slightly annoyed. Of course, they were a new country this year too, along with San Marino, except neither of them got a special introduction from the hosts like you did.  
After one more song, all the entries have been performed. It was now time for the hosts to announce the start of the voting.  
"Ok," Željko said, "And now we are just about to start the voting. So, remember everyone, that-"  
Željko pauses for a moment. Looks like something has shown up that wasn't in rehearsals.  
"Ukraine is watching?" Željko reads it out loud. What? The acts in the green room seem to be just as confused as you are. Željko looked over to where the camera crew were.  
"What does that mean?" Željko asked. The camera crew just shrugged. They certainly hadn't wrote that in.  
"Ukraine... what?" Jovana said.  
Željko took a moment to compose himself.  
"Sorry, it looks like someone is playing with the teleprompter," Željko smiled, "Let's carry on with the voting!"  
Confusion in the green room. Ukraine is watching? What a strange thing to edit in. Oh well, it seemed to just be a harmless prank, you thought.  
Elnur leaned over to Ani Lorak, the Ukrainian entrant.  
"Something to do with you, Ani?" he asked.  
Ani just laughed.  
"No, of course not," Ani grinned.  
"You know," said Sébastien Tellier, "Željko was in Eurovision himself, way back in 2004. He came second... to Ukraine. Maybe it is a reference to that? Someone is clearly having fun messing with him."  
He certainly seemed to know his Eurovision history. The explanation made sense, anyway. Still, coming second wasn't exactly something to make fun of. You know just how happy you would be if you managed to come second, or third, or even in the top ten. You knew how happy you had been just to qualify from the semi-final round.  
"Could be," Ani said.  
The two hosts put it behind them as the interval acts came in. You leaned back in your chair. The votes would be coming in soon. Would you do well? You would find out soon enough...


	2. Chapter 2

Sitting in the greenroom with the other acts, you could finally just sit there and take in the atmosphere. Waiting to perform your song had been pretty tense, but now that you had done it you felt that you could relax for the first time of the night. The voting was still going on. While Goran Bregović, one of the interval acts, was performing on stage, Željko and Jovana had come backstage to hang out with you guys. That was pretty awesome, especially since according to Sébastien and his Eurovision facts, Željko was somewhat of a Eurovision legend.  
"Hey," Željko says as he sat on the empty seat next to you, "I hear you're Russian. And representing Sealand. That's pretty cool."  
"Haha, yeah, thanks," you say, "You're both doing great out there."  
Željko smiles and looks like he's about to say something.  
"But what about the Ukraine thing?" Elnur interrupts.  
Ah, yes. The Ukraine thing. What did it mean? Was there an explanation?  
"Oh, of course," Željko said, "So, not a big deal or anything, but basically, our teleprompter got hacked. We're not sure who did it, but it seems to be harmless."   
"Ukraine did it, obviously," Rodolfo, the Spanish entrant, said, and then laughed to himself.  
"Maybe," Željko said, "There's no point blaming anyone. The EBU think they've found the flaw in the system, so it shouldn't happen again."  
That was when they heard Goran shout "Thank you Belgrade!" from the stage. The interval act had drawn to a close. The voting would be soon. You'd finally get to find out how well you did. You could barely wait for it.  
"Looks like we're back on," Jovana said as she and Željko stood up. That's when everything changed. That's when the lights of the stadium went out. The lights in the greenroom, too. You could barely see anything in front of you. People in the audience started yelling and screaming.  
"What's going on?" Željko yells out in the darkness.  
"Electrical fault, maybe?" you hear Dima Bilan's voice suggest.  
Maybe. But something felt wrong. Something really wasn't right. You hoped you were wrong, but you had a very bad feeling about this...


	3. Chapter 3

The lights came back on and you could tell that something was really wrong. Looking out of the window on the door of greenroom, you could see armed men standing on the stage, surrounding Goran, the interval act, who looked absolutely terrified. They were surrounding the door out of the greenroom as well. And somehow, while sitting in the Eurovision green room, the contest is the last thing on your mind. Probably something to do with the people who had just stormed the contest. That does tend to put a damper on things.  
Looking out, you could see more armed men coming onto the stage. This really wasn't good at all. Goran had dropped the microphone to the floor, and one of the men picked it up and spoke into it.  
"Hello. We are Ukret, big Ukrainian paramilitary organisation," he said in broken English, "We have no problems with audience. Audience is free to go. Go now. We keep entrants here. Cameras keep rolling or we shoot! We warned you, Ukraine is watching. Now you will watch Ukraine!"  
The audience was already running out of the arena. They had been running the whole time this had been going on. Maybe you guys would be let out of here too? After all, what would they possibly want with Eurovision contestants? You prayed in your mind for the first time in years, to any deity who could possibly be listening. Please...  
Surely they wouldn't do anything? You were all harmless musicians. Was this to put pressure on someone for something? What could Ukraine possibly want? What would they want at the Eurovision Song Contest?  
The green room only had the one door, the one that the armed men were guarding. Basically, you were screwed. What did these people even want? You had never even heard of Ukret. But it seemed that someone here had.  
"They're basically terrorists," Sébastien whispers, in case anyone outside was listening. Yeah, that much was obvious already. But that was when he added something that really chilled you.  
"They hate Russians and Russian people."  
For a moment it seemed that time itself stopped. But weren't Ukraine and Russia friends? How could this be? You flashback to the time your parents warned you about the Chechen terrorist organisations who were attacking random establishments and checking everyone for Russian passports. That was the whole reason you had a British passport in the first place, because they were so worried about you. It was on you, of course, in your pocket. But it would still list your birthplace as Vladivostok, Russia. However, it might protect you more than having a Russian passport would. You looked around. Everyone in the room looked terrified, you included. No one said anything, everyone was too scared to say anything. You just sat there in silence. You go over it in your mind, again and again. If these people who hate Russia, found out that you were Russian, then...  
But that wasn't fair, you didn't have anything to do with whatever the Russian government were doing that they didn't like. You had lived in England for years, for goodness sake. You were practically British at this point. They couldn't...  
Suddenly, you were taken from your thoughts by yelling. The Ukrainians were shouting at Goran, who was on the stage, and pointing guns at him.  
"P-please," Goran said, "Don't, I-"  
The grabbed him and pushed him towards the green room door, him yelling the whole time. They swung the door open and pushed him in, and he fell to the floor. One of the Ukret members pulled a key from their pocket and then locked the green room door. Where would they even have a key from?  
The Ukret member with the microphone then stood in the middle of the stage and then spoke again.  
"We want ransom," the member said, "If you want your Eurovision singers back alive, then we want big ransom money."  
Gasps in the greenroom. So that was it. They wanted a ransom. At hearing that, Laka, Bosnia's entrant, burst into tears. Jesus. You knew deep down that even Bosnia's entrant had more chance of making it out of here alive than you did. If Bosnia-Herzegovina wasn't going to pay up, then Sealand wasn't going to pay up. You had never even met their prince, all your communication had been over the internet. Sealand was an unrecognised micronation who weren't exactly awash with cash. So not only were you Russian, being held hostage by a group who hates Russians, but the so-called 'country' you were representing were unlikely to pay up and probably wouldn't even have the money even if they wanted to. You had never felt fear like this before in your whole life. You realised how privileged your life had been to this point. You had always felt relatively safe. You had never even considered the possibility of something like this happening to you. Even when you got the British passport, that was more to calm your parents down, not because you felt particularly unsafe. So this was what it felt like. Actually being scared for your life. You never want to feel like this again.  
One thing was clear, the Eurovision Song Contest had become a disaster, and you regretted ever signing up to do this. Why did you open that email? You should have been sitting in your apartment in London. You never should have come here. But you had. And there was nothing you could do about it now.


End file.
